Chapter Summary: Luke goes on a mission while sick. The results leave much to be desired. Vader certainly isn't impressed.

Chapter 2: A Stimshot a Day Keeps the Doctor Away

Luke coughed, groaned, and coughed again. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this miserable—not counting Bespin, of course. His throat was raw, like he'd been gargling sand for days. His head pounded, causing his stomach to churn like a sarlacc scrambling for its next food source. His body was wracked with shivers, even though he didn't feel cold in the slightest.

Last night, when he'd gone to bed, he'd felt fine. Luke cursed his luck. Or the Force. Whatever. This was the worst time to catch a virus. There was too much to do. For one, he had to help find Han. For another, he had a mission in...he checked his chrono—0300...two hours.

He swallowed, wincing as the motion exacerbated his throat. Maybe he could raid the medbay for some stimshots. He'd have to be careful the medics didn't catch him. It would only be a temporary solution—just until the mission was over. Then he could afford to rest a few days before continuing the search for Han.

Luke rolled over in bed, drew the covers closer around his shoulders, and desperately tried to get a couple more hours of sleep.

"Shavit, shavit, shavit," Luke hissed under his breath, moving as stealthily through the trees as he could.

Luke stifled a cough in the crook of his elbow, stumbled, and kept moving. He focused on swiftly putting one foot in front of the other without tripping on the undergrowth. This was made difficult by the heavy fog and the trees above blotting out most of the gray sky.

Vader was not supposed to be here. Absolutely zero percent of their intel had indicated he would be here. So why was he here? This mission wasn't going to plan. But then, when did any of his missions go to plan? Honestly, he should just stop planning. He almost always ended up improvising anyway.

He felt Vader's dark, freezing presence probing, seeking. Luke swore and threw up even more mental shields. Vader already knew he was here—hence why Luke was running—but he didn't know exactly where he was. If Luke kept him off his scent for long enough, maybe he would get tired of searching and leave him alone.

Yeah right, Skywalker. That'll happen the day Hoth turns into a tropical paradise.

Luke's vision spun and he shook his head frantically to clear it. Bad idea. His foot caught on a protruding root and he went sprawling on the damp forest ground. He coughed weakly and shivered, resisting the urge to groan at the pain in his inflamed throat. Luke crawled unsteadily to a nearby tree and leaned his back against it, trying to will energy back into his limbs.

The stimshot must be wearing off, he thought vaguely, and grew alarmed when he realized his eyelids were drooping.

The steady sound of a respirator chilled his blood.

His head snapped up and a sudden spike of adrenaline gave him the strength to surge to his feet just in time to see Darth Vader emerge from the mist. Idly, Luke realized his shields must have dropped in his exhaustion.

"Why are you here?" Vader demanded, his sonorous, mechanical voice sending vibroblades driving into his head.

Luke was thrown off by the completely unexpected question and as such could only think to say, "What?"

"You are clearly ill," Vader snapped, and Luke tried to hide the fact that he had to lean against a tree for support. "Yet here you are, traipsing about like a recalcitrant bantha cub. Does the rebellion have no regard for its poster boy's health?"

Luke stared at him, flustered, astonished, and angered all in one.

"You have no right," Luke snarled.

"I have every right—"

"You yourself have no regard for my health," Luke interrupted, lifting his prosthetic hand pointedly. "And I should be asking what you're doing here."

Vader bristled, annoyance simmering below the surface. "I do not make a habit of discussing Imperial business with rebels."

Luke opened his mouth to make some sort of retort when his stomach turned violently. Eyes growing wide in horror, he plead to the Force and any deity that would listen. Oh, Force. Not now, not now, not now…

"Luke?"

Unfortunately, Luke's pleas went unanswered. He had just enough time to throw himself partially behind the tree he was leaning against for some semblance of privacy before he was heaving up the meager breakfast he'd managed to eat that morning.

Behind him, he felt Vader take a step forward and then stop, as if he didn't know what to do.

Welcome to fatherhood, Luke thought hysterically and decided he was losing it.

He ignored Vader's overbearing presence as it surrounded him and tried to pretend that it wasn't at all soothing.

After what felt like an eternity of his stomach trying to turn itself inside out, he sat back, letting out an involuntary moan at the burning in his throat. The pain in his head was near blinding now, and all he wanted to do was lie down right where he was and let his face rest against the cool earth.

A heavy gloved hand coming to rest against the top of his head startled him.

"You are coming with me," Vader said.

"I'm not," Luke protested, cringing at how raspy his voice was.

"You are in no condition to argue," Vader retorted, Force presence sharp and cold. Then, inexplicably, infinitesimally, the dark tendrils softened. "Truce, for now, Luke. We can revisit the topic of your destiny when you are healed." Vader held out a hand.

Luke gazed at it warily. His instincts screamed at him not to trust Vader—not to go with him. Another, smaller voice told him everything would be alright. The voice was feminine and familiar, as if he'd heard it long ago. Images of warm brown eyes and long, curly brown hair decorated with flowers flashed through his mind. He didn't know why he recognized the voice, but he instinctively trusted whoever it belonged to.

At least the rest of my team got away, Luke thought.

"Fine," he breathed, and reached out to take his father's hand.

Leia is definitely going to kill me.

A/N: I've been sick lately, so I thought I'd let Luke share my misery. Unlike Luke, however, I don't use stimshots to deal with it (or in Luke's case, not deal with it.)

Thanks for reading!